Take My Hand
by JezebelKanda
Summary: Maybe Petunia and Lily weren't the only other Evans girls. Maybe someone else had Lily's blood running through her veins. Maybe she'd be more responsible than Petunia. Maybe she'd offer Harry her help, her home, and her love.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Hi! I don't own anything recognizable or else I'd be vacationing in Thailand right about now.**

The knock that changed the course of history was quick, precise, not too loud and not too soft. The lady of the house, an anorexic looking woman with an equine face, scowled and brushed imaginary dust off her a-line skirt. Her rude answer changed before she even began to utter it and a sickly sweet smile spread across her face.

"Sorry to bother, are you Petunia Dursley?" The woman was pretty and elegant looking. Her clothes were much better than what the Dursley's could afford, Petunia could see a shiny new car over her shoulder.

"Yes, how can I help you?" the woman handed her a simple white card of thick, smooth, creamy paper.

"My name is Elena Evan, your father was my father's younger brother. I have something to talk to you about." Though she was already planning on how to kick the woman out if she asked for anything, she gestured for her to come in. She led the woman through to the parlor and offered tea.

"Is something the matter? I have to say I'd forgotten I have an uncle." The woman sighed.

"That's exactly what I wanted to speak to you about. First, is there a way to get a hold of Cousin Lily? I had to resort to a private detective to find you, however, he wasn't able to find her." Petunia half sneered at her sisters name.

"Lily passed away six years ago."

"Oh. That is unfortunate, my condolences. Actually, I've come because my father has passed away." She waved a hand at Petunia's gasp and 'heartfelt sympathies'. Apparently, Elena wasn't a very warm, emotional woman. "Yes, yes. Well, anyway. As his only child, I inherited. This of course includes his house, which had been in the family for six generations." Petunia waited for her to get to the point. Though Mrs. Dursley loved to brag, she didn't like it when it wasn't her who was bragging.

"I'm a military woman as my father was a military man. Now I do mostly office work but I'm afraid I have been told I'm expected to move to the States by the weekend. As it stands, I can't inhabit the house and neither can I sell it. Father was quite vocal about keeping it in the Evan's line. I was hoping either you or Cousin Lily would like to have the house. I understand both of you had children?"

It took Petunia a second to gather her thoughts. After all, a complete stranger had come to give away a _**house**_! " Yes, yes, my darling Dudley and her boy. Dudley's a precious little tyke, already so popular and handsome."

"And Cousin Lily's?" Petunia looked like she'd been forced to bite an unpeeled lemon. "One boy, named Harry. After my… sister and that husband of her's died, we took him in. He's a little devil, always breaking something or getting into trouble."

"That's incredibly kind of you. If I were the boy, I'd be more appreciative of all you've done for him. I've seen what boys like him grow up to be, you know. I see plenty of those kind become good members of society through the tough training of the military and the marines."

"We considered sending him to a military academy but with two boys to consider…"

"I wish I had known. The same blood flows through our veins, after all, and it makes me just as responsible for the boy. More, actually, since I myself am unmarried and unable to bear children."

"And the house?" Petunia tried to be subtle. Her cousin pulled a picture from her purse and handed it over. And Petunia, in vulgar words, almost pissed her granny panties. The "house" was more on the mansion side of the spectrum. Even if the Dursley's were to save everything Vernon earned for ten years; they wouldn't have been able to afford it.

"I had planned for the detective to find you weeks ago, to give you time to visit the house and see the town but it took him much longer. As I said, I have to be at work on Monday so I would very much like to meet your husband so we can all go over the paperwork together. For now, I have an appointment soon so I'm afraid I have to go. My number is on my card so feel free to call me anytime in the next two days. I'll bring everything over and we can decide if you want the house or not. I really must get going though."

Petunia made vacant pleasantries as Elena left. Want the house? Of course they wanted the bloody house! She couldn't wait for Vernon and Dudley to get home.

Harry James Potter, age seven, had been busy brushing, washing, scrubbing, wiping, dusting, and polishing every surface in the whole of his aunt's house since he'd gotten home from school. While he was used to cleaning the house, he'd only been made to do it this intensely maybe twice in all his life. What really had him worried was the fact that he'd been given new hand-me-downs. Of course, they were clothes that Petunia had saved from when Dudley was four and even then they were too big. The reason Harry was worried was because the new clothes meant that whoever was coming to visit was going to want to see him. No one had ever wanted to see Harry before.

Something weird had been going on with the Dursley's since the day before. They'd been over the moon about something and had spent hours staring at a picture and laughing. Uncle Vernon and even Aunt Petunia had had a little too much too drink in celebration the night before. Harry thought it had something to do with tonight's dinner guest. The Dursleys as a whole loved very few things: money, shiny cars, big houses, food, the telly, anything bad that happened to Harry, and Dudley. Since Dudley looked perfectly fine, Harry was stumped and a little afraid of the reason for their excitement.

At exactly six, Dudley pushed Harry into a wall when he went to answer the door. He came back with a stiff looking lady with a no-nonsense air about her. She looked _expensive_ and she smelled like some kind of flower.

"Welcome, Elena, welcome. May I introduce my husband, Vernon and you've met my darling Duddy. Vernon, this is my cousin Elena Evans." If she was Aunt Petunia's cousin, then wasn't she Harry's aunt as well? Would she be like Aunt Marge?

"And Lily's boy?" Harry shuffled forward ever so slightly and winced when Petunia grabbed him roughly and dragged him forward.

"Forgive the state of his clothes, he's destroyed everything we buy him." Harry turned red at his aunt's disdainful tone and the new aunt's raised eyebrow.

"I can see. Tell me, Vernon, what has Petunia said to you about my offer?" Harry, taking that as his cue to leave, marched himself into the kitchen to finish washing and chopping the fruit salad for dinner.

By eight, Harry knew that this new aunt was going to be exactly, if not worse, than aunt Marge. She was cold, and stiff, and thought Harry should be sent to an academy that would straighten his act up and 'teach him to be a productive member of society'. After dinner, Dudley ran off to watch the telly in his room and Harry served tea and coffee in the parlor. While the adults talked and looked over some papers, Harry sat against the wall behind the couch. He was happy he was allowed to sit after running around all day.

"Well, that's all of that then." He heard the woman say. "Tell me about the boys. I'm not too sure I want Harry anywhere near the house. All those precious antiques, you know. I already feel responsible for how much trouble he's been. Had I known the situation I would have found some way to help you."

"We're family. He's our responsibility."

"But so am I, and I have much more time than either of you. If only Lily had seen fit to leave him with me. It can't be easy, after all, having to look after him when you have your own son to raise. Not to mention the things poor Dudley must have to bear with just living with that little hellion. It's frankly amazing he hasn't hurt Dudley or gotten him in trouble." Vernon and Petunia made little agreement noises and Petunia saw fit to recount all the latest of "Harry's misbehaviors" which had all been Dudley's but Harry had gotten blamed and punished for.

"If I had a son….." began the woman and suddenly stopped. "Well, that _is_ an idea. What if I were to take custody of the boy?" Harry overbalanced and fell over in his surprise. The silence was incredibly ….loud, almost. It was as if time itself had stopped.

"Oh, oh…we couldn't do that to you, we couldn't ask you to-" Harry had never heard his aunt so flustered.

"I'm family, the same blood that runs through your veins and ran through Lily's runs through mine. I have time, and the money to take care of myself as well as another. And I believe I could make him behave." Harry didn't like the way she had said that. It sounded bad.

"I-I don't know what to say," began his aunt again but Vernon broke in.

"Will you excuse us for a moment." Harry saw his uncle pulling Petunia behind him in a brusque way normally used only on Harry. The two disappeared into the kitchen and he crawled as close to the door as he possibly could.

"Petunia just give her the boy! We'd be free! And the house!"

"You know what they said when they left him. He has to stay with-"

"someone with the same blood as your sister's. That cousin of yours has the same blood!"

"What- what if _they_ find out?"

"They said blood of her blood, that stuck up woman _has that blood_. I want that house!"

"Alright, Vernon, alright. She has to be gone by this weekend so it's best we get the boy out as soon as we can."

The only two somewhat parental figures Harry had ever had were giving him away. Vernon was even smiling as he came back into the room. Harry scrambled back behind the couch and pressed himself tightly against the stiff fabric. A hand went to his lips and he bit down on his skin, trying desperately to stop any sound that might break through. Even though he knew they didn't care much for him, he'd never expected to be given away. Sadness and anger and so many other emotions a seven year old couldn't explain or name were fighting inside him and his tears were blurring his vision more and creating droplets on his hideous glasses.

"Though it pains us, I think that would be the best for the boy." Said Vernon gruffly. "Will you have the time to finish the paperwork for him too?"

"If you have the time, my solicitor can come by tomorrow with both sets of documents. I think I should take the boy now, get him used to things as quickly as possible."

"Good idea, very good." T here was the clink of china against china for a second, "Boy!" Harry roughly wiped his eyes on his huge shirt.

"Y-yes Uncle Vernon?" He stood next to the couch, watching the two self-satisfied adults and the uncaring stranger they were giving him to.

"Go grab that old suitcase from the linen closet upstairs and pack your things. You're going to live with your Aunt." Harry knew he was expected to say something but he felt like he might vomit if he opened his mouth, like lava would flow from his mouth if he didn't keep it bubbling inside of him.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Poor Harry, he's not loved. As always, I don't own HP.**

It took only about five minutes for Harry to pack everything he owned into the overnight bag. It took another five for him to stop crying enough to go back into the parlor. The tea and coffee were running low but he didn't need to refill it; Aunt Elena was getting ready to leave.

"Ah," she stopped at the front door and looked back at Petunia, "The solicitor will come by at twelve. I would come by but I have to arrange the boys passport. Let's meet at the house an hour after Vernon leaves work. I've made a reservation for you at a lovely local spot."

Harry waited patiently for Aunt Elena to unlock the car door, all the while feeling like he'd lost his balance and was swaying like leaves in a strong gale. Elena held the backdoor open until Harry had settled on the plush leather seat. Her car smelled faintly of flowers and mint and there was a folded up blanket on the other side of the seat. It looked like one Dudley had on his bed, thick and soft, with a pattern on light blue, grey, and navy stripes. Harry wanted to touch it, he wanted to wrap himself up in it and cry and sleep for a long time.

The small boy flinched when the car began to move forward. His breathing sped up and he felt like Dudley was sitting on his chest again. Unlike that time though, there were no helpful teachers around to pull the weight off and let him breath. Harry wanted to cry, really cry. He had somehow never felt as alone and uncared for as he did right then. Even with all of his practice at keeping it in, tears streamed down his cheeks.

After about ten minutes, which to Harry seemed like a couple seconds, Elena began to speak. "When I was eight, my mother passed away. She was a beautiful lady, sweet and kind and friendly to everyone. Father lover her so much. Up to that point, I thought I had the best family. After mother died, father changed. He had always been on the strict side but he became…. Mean. Your grandmother and your mum were like my sister and my second mum. I actually wanted to meet your mum but when I had someone look for her, they didn't find anything. Do you know what Lily was like when she was young?"

Elena knew what the answer would be but she still felt anger rise inside when the stick thin boy shook his head, slow tears running down his almost gaunt cheeks.

"Lily was always tall for her age, and so pretty. People sometimes stopped us when we went somewhere to tell her or tell your gran how angelic she was. But she was a little devil. She never bullied or hurt anyone but she'd play pranks or make messes that she blamed on the cat. One time, she put glue in her teacher's hand cream because the teacher was mean to her friend. Your gran, Gardenia, was the most perfect lady ever. She was a little chubby, nowhere near the size of that whale called Dursley. She always smelled like some kind of jasmine powder and she was so polite and sweet to everyone. I really loved both of them, you know."

Harry was so focused on the first description he'd ever heard of his mother and gran that he didn't notice when his aunt pulled into a gas station's car park. He almost jumped in his seat when she turned the engine off. Elena got out and straightened her clothes before pulling something out of the boot and gesturing for Harry to open his door and hand her the throw that looked like Dudley's.

Harry didn't expect, ever, to be wrapped up in the soft throw or carried by Elena into the dingy station bathroom. He had no memory of ever being carried by anyone. Maybe his mum had carried him when he was a baby, and maybe even his dad had. Elena set him down on the floor and dropped the bag she'd taken from the boot of the car.

Harry had been so shocked by being cuddled that he hadn't seen the bag until the sound of it's zipper made him flinch. He silently watched his aunt rummage around. His eyes grew wider when she handed him a pair of shoes and a set of clothes.

The shoes were the type some of the boys at school wore, shiny on some parts and soft suede on others. They were also the smallest shoes Harry had ever touched. He always got Dudley's old pairs, meaning his shoes were too big for his feet. There was a new, fluffy pair of socks rolled into one of the shoes. His fingers lightly brushed the thick fabric. It bore no resemblance to the dingy gray of his threadbare, loose pair.

Elena watched the tiny boy stare at the shoes on top of the pile of neatly folded clothes. Anger burned its way up her chest. It would be very counterproductive to let him see her angry so early in their relationship. Instead, she busied herself by undoing the poor boy's tightly tied laces.

"Harry, do you need help changing?" Harry jumped. He hadn't often been directly referred to as Harry. He was much more used to 'boy' or 'freak' or 'waste of space'.

"No. I'm sorry." He shyly turned his back to her before yanking his much too large shirt over his head and carefully set the shoes aside. Under them, he found a soft grey long-sleeve. It looked expensive. It smelled like mint. It was _warm._

Elena grit her teeth so hard she was sure her jaw would creak at any moment. His thin back was covered in bruises and she could clearly count his ribs.

After Harry had his new shirt on, he pulled the black trousers on and the warm socks and the new shoes. The shoes felt strangely snug but Harry didn't care. Once he was dressed, he stood quietly next to the sink, waiting for Elena to tell him what to do.

"Hold on, I'm sure there was a sweater in here too." His aunt, who hadn't sounded stiff since they'd left number 4, pulled a thick, green wool cardigan and helped him put it on. She straightened his clothes and stashed all his old things in the bag. Once they were ready, she bundled him back in the warm throw and picked him up.

Harry's head was spinning. His aunt and uncle had given him away. His chest still felt horribly empty and crushed. But his new aunt had given him new clothes. Clothes as nice as the ones the neighbors the Dursley's were jealous of had. And she kept carrying him like he'd seen mums carry their kids. Aunt Elena also told him about his mum. He'd never seen a picture of her or heard about her.

The seasons were changing and he'd been quite cold. Now he was _warm. His_ sweater was warm. _His_ shirt was warm. A bad thought crept in. What if she took them away? Why was she being nice? Was she going to hurt him? Was she going to leave him somewhere bad?

Even though he was scared; the warmth of his clothes and the blanket still around him mixed with the soft vibration of the car put him to sleep.

Elena watched him nod off and sighed. Harry was covered in bruises, was too thin, scared, and was going to need to see a therapist. She wasn't sure how she was going to do this. At first, she just wanted to make sure her cousins were okay. Then she wanted to know Lily's son was okay. And then, when she had heard the PI's report, she wanted to take Harry to protect him.

Now she was his parent, his protector, his teacher. And she had no clue what she could give this tiny boy. Whatever it was, it'd still be better than the Dursleys.

 **AN: being an adult sucks but I'm excited for Yule. My altar is going to be amazing. I'm even going to use an embroidered altar cloth I'm making.**


	3. Chapter 3

Harry wouldn't have woken if his aunt hadn't placed her keys a little too loudly on the table besides the couch. When he did, he held perfectly still for a few minutes, listening as her heels clicked away softly. Wherever he was, it was well lit and warm and smelled like apple pie. As quietly as he could, Harry shifted so his face faced the rest of the room.

The lounge was spacious and a whole wall was just glass, looking out over hundreds of city lights. A while tiled chimney crackled across from the navy couch Harry had been placed on. To one side, he could see two navy accent chairs. Oddly, the coffee table in front of him was white with a dark, smokey grey glass center. Instead of pictures of Dudley, cityscapes hung on the walls.

Gentle, low talk made Harry peek around the couch. Aunt Elena and another woman, a slightly plump blonde, were setting plates on a high counter. Behind the counter, Harry could see a hob hood. The white marble of the counter gleamed and Harry scowled. He didn't know how to clean marble. Aunt Petunia had taught him that different surfaces had to be cleaned different ways to look their best. Hopefully aunt Elena would tell him how.

Harry flinched as a door next to the counter opened and two men walked in. One was asian, slightly shorter than Elena but taller than the blonde. He was very handsome, even if he was what uncle Vernon called a stinking yellow monkey. (* I feel lime a disgusting human being even writing that, please don't be angry I'm only trying to illustrate how bad of a person Vernon is.*) The other man was taller and broader and mire intimidating. His hair was pulled back into a ponytail and he was also very handsome. Although he looked somewhat Asian, there was something about his face that made Harry sure he wasn't.

"How's the kid?" the tall man's voice was deep and rumbly and sounded American and Harry wondered if the man was mean. The man looked like he would be scarier than uncle Vernon when he got angry.

"Small, sad, tired, angry, hungry. Which answer were you looking for?" Aunt Elena seemed tired and sad too.

"You should have let me go with you to pick him up."

"Not a good idea, Logan. I could barely keep calm. I doubt very much if you could."

"So where is he, love?" asked the smaller man. His voice was deep too, but not as rumbly as the man called Logan's.

"The couch, corazon. I know your excited to meet him. We all are, but let Elena wake him. I don't want to scare him." The blonde's voice was funny, like she had an accent. The man grinned at her and took over pouring water into glasses on the counter for Elena. Once she was free, Harry ducked back behind the couch. He gulped when he heard the click of her heels heading towards his spot.

The sound of her steps stopped next to the couch and there was silence, interrupted only by the quiet talk of the other three adults and their activities. A hand touched Harry's hair and he flinched. The hand stilled. "Harry, get up, please."

Harry opened his eyes slowly, expecting to see Elena's angry face. Instead, she was looking at him quite neutrally. She didn't look angry at all. "Yes, aunt Elena?"

"Dinner time. We eat later in this house. Besides, you didn't eat much at Petunia's earlier." Elena offered her hand and Harry took it, afraid she'd get angry if he didn't take it. Aunt Petunia would if he didn't take it when strangers were watching. She didn't want to be called bad names because he didn't behave.

Elena walked him towards the counter and the three people standing by it. "These are my very good friends. They live here too. Anna Maria's parents are from Michoacan, a place in Mexico. She made tonight's dinner. Logan is from the States. He looks grouchy but he's nice. Theodore used to live in Scotland, and he's much to hyperactive. This is my nephew, Harry James Potter." Harry stood as far behind Elena as he thought he could get away with. Three pairs of eyes, all three dark stared at him for a second before their owners smiled and greeted him.

"Here, little man. Sit next to _Elena,_ for now." The way Logan said his aunt's name made Harry think he was making fun of her. Instead of saying anything, though, Harry climbed onto the tall chair he was offered.

"Shut up Logan. Here, Harry, try some of this salad. No one makes it like Anna Maria."

Harry settled in to eat and to watch the easy, calm interactions between his aunt and her three friends. They seemed like nice people and he noticed Elena held Theodore's hand throughout the meal.

Immediately after the meal, Elena took Harry's hand and led him through the door the men had arrived and into the hallway beyond. There were four doors and then a set of stairs surrounded on three sides by glass walls. Elena's three friends followed them, standing in the hallway as Elena led Harry to one of the doors closer to the stairs.

"This is your room. None of us will come in here if you don't want us to. Any messes in there are your responsibility. Anna Maria and Logan worked on it really hard so I hope you take care of it, alright?"

Harry stood stiffly, completely frozen in place. He was getting a room? Didn't she know freaks didn't get rooms? Harry felt his eyes sting and willed himself not to cry. He didn't know her rules yet and if he cried maybe she'd be worse than the Dursleys.

"Yes, aunt Elena." It was a valiant effort, the four grownups recognized, but the little boy's voice still shook. Elena pulled the door open and they watched his face slacken into a look so awestruck they wanted to laugh and hurt his old family at the same time.

The room was simple enough. The walls, or rather the three that weren't just glass, were white. His bed was huge. It was way bigger than Dudley's and Harry was sure it was also bigger than aunt Petunia's bed too. It had a big, dark blue comforter and lots of blue and gray and black pillows. There were two tables with shiny lamps on either side. A bunch of gray and navy hampers sat across from it with labels like 'trains and tracks', and 'figurines'. Next to it stood a big bookcase full of books, all of them black with shiny metal letters. Next to the door stood a large, though simple wardrobe.

"Do you like it?" only Theo, Anna Maria, and Logan could tell how nervous Elena was. The small boy turned his large green eyes on them and nodded, still obviously shocked.

"Thank you." He whispered softly. "Thank you Logan. Thank you Anna Maria."


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: As always, I wish I owned HP. And I'm** _ **so**_ **sorry for how long this chapter has taken nut I've got work, depression, anorexia, and repressively overprotective parents so…**

Elena Evans, or Belladonna Elena Evans, sighed heavily as she sat down at her kitchen counter. She'd just spent ten minutes showing her stunned silent nephew his new clothes and shoes as well as which bathroom he should use. Now the boy was in bed and Belle (as anyone she knew, other than the Dursleys, called her) felt emotionally tired.

A soft whimper from Anna Maria drew her attention and she saw the very somber faces of the two males and the crying face of the blonde. Theodore pulled the soft blonde into his arms just as Logan engulfed Belle's hand with one of his.

"He really needs me." She whispered, as if they needed any convincing. "He's so small and so scared and I don't- I don't know how to make it better."

"We knew that you've wanted to be a mum for a while. We knew you would be a great one but with your inability and Anna Maria's.. situation.." Logan's words made Theodore's hold on the Latina tightened but he continued. "What I mean is you'll be great. Whatever you have to do to heal that boy, whatever he needs; I know you'll give him everything. Besides, you've got us. We love you and we're going to love him too. If he's yours, he's ours, right?"

"Hasn't it always been that way?" asked Theodore. "We're always here for you. The minute he crossed that doorway he became ours."

Belle gave the three a watery but thankful smile. What would she do without her three loves? "I'm going to ask around at work to find a good therapist. I was thinking maybe you and Anna Maria could take him to buy some things he likes, maybe a bicycle or something. And-".

"I'm going to have to stop you right there." Anna Maria looked at her through Theodore's arms. "Do you have any clue who's sleeping in the room next to the library?"

"Erm…. My nephew?"

Anna Maria, Hogwarts student in the year after the famous James and Lily Potter, rolled her eyes. "Remember what I said about the crazy terrorist in my other life?"

"Yeah, all the baddies grouped together under the big baddie and started a war on anyone who wasn't full blood or something and the ones that didn't agree."

"Pure Blood but basically right. They were winning too. Until the big bad, they called him Voldemort, went after a young couple named Potter. He murdered them but when he tried to murder the baby, Harry Potter, the evil curse he used bounced and killed him instead. That's who you have in our house. The boy hero of the war, Harry Potter."

"He's also my very scared, very vulnerable nephew. Is his _hero_ status going to cause problems?" Belle said hero like it was something dirty. She had the boy and now she wasn't going to give him up. Besides, in her experience, heroes were nothing more than morale boosters and cannon fodder. That wasn't what she wanted for Harry and she knew that wasn't what Lily would have wanted for her son.

"Last I heard, the 'leader of the light', and the headmaster of Hogwarts had placed Harry with heavily warded family members. Everyone assumed it was someone in James Potter's extended family. Obviously that isn't true. There's bound to be someone watching the Dursleys. Maybe a name change?"

"Why a name change? Can't whatever protections they put on the Dursleys be put on us? I'm _**not**_ letting him go back there and _**no one**_ is taking him from me." Theodore smiled at Belle's angry expression.

"The Headmaster never changes his plans if he can help it, even if it means someone's hurt, has to live with their attacker, or has a curse only their attacker can remove. I doubt very much that _hijo de puta_ would be alright with us keeping Harry. If there's one thing I know; all of them have no clue how to find someone whose name or appearance changes even slightly."

"Easy, we dye the kids hair, put something on that scar of his, and change his name." Logan lifted Belle off her seat and settled her on his lap. "Kid's ours and no one's gonna take him."

The adults of the new Evans house were used to having late nights, so each took a task and got down to it. Belle was starting the process to get Harry a passport by making the appropriate appointment and making other appointments with doctors and various government offices. Logan was out buying hair dye and new underpants for their new kid. Theodore had called a colleague about taking Harry to him to sort out his abused psyche and making plans to take him to a museum the next day. Anna Maria looked through her very well guarded collection if magic texts to find as many protections as she could for her family.

Anna Maria had been the only Latina in Hogwarts her entire time there. She and a couple other first generation witches and wizards of color had been friends but being muggleborn had made their time in school uncomfortable on good days and down right terrible on bad. Anna Maria had been cursed on multiple occasions but the one that she still hurt from was the one that would make any child she had deformed and too weak to live for long. She had gone to the Dumbledore to have those responsible punished but he had refused. His reasoning was simple: if he punished them, they'd blame all of the light side and join Voldemort. Besides, he had plans that involved them and he needed them free in order to work well.

Anna Maria had left the wizarding world a year after graduating. It had become quite obvious that muggleborns were not only despised but seen as a kind of indentured servant. She still heard from her school friends but other than that, Anna Maria stayed far from the world that had caused her so much pain.

This good thing, her family and it's new member, was one thing they wouldn't be able to take from her. No matter what she had to do.

Harry woke feeling warm and comfy. Instead of shrieks from aunt Petunia, all he heard was the muffled sound of music. If this was a dream, it was a pretty good one. However, the more awake he was the clearer the events of the previous afternoon became. He'd been given away. No one wanted him. Harry started crying. Why wasn't it fair? Why did everyone else get a mummy and daddy? Why was he the only one? What had he done that was so _wrong?_

He stuffed his wrist in his mouth and bit down, hoping to silence any noise he might make. The feel if strange material made him look at his arm. Through the tears and the lack of glasses, the gray and blue fabric was just a smudge of color. A sliver of the giddiness of the previous night returned. He had a room _all to himself._ Harry grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and shoved them on his face. There were the books and the toys, the wardrobe full of nice clothes and best of all, the pictures.

They hung three on each side of his bed. The left hand side had one with a pretty, pudgy redheaded woman holding a beautiful redheaded little girl's hand. The little girl was smiling at the camera and holding a bunny. The next picture down had the same girl, only older and in a school uniform, holding a cat and sticking her tongue out at the camera. The last picture on the left had the same girl, now a beautiful teenager, holding the hand of a boy who looked so much like Harry that Harry knew he was his dad.

The right had side was topped by a picture of his parents on their wedding day. His dad was wearing a weird, dress looking coat over his suit and smiling like a loon. His mum was wearing a very pretty wedding dress and hugging his dad, an excited smile on her face. The next picture was one of the best because _his_ dad and _his_ mum were holding him between them. He didn't look like much, just a green bundle in their arms but the shock of fuzzy black hair and the smiles on their faces made him feel all gooey inside. _His parents had loved him._ The last picture was of all three of them too, except now Harry was a toddler extending his arms to the camera. Aunt Elena had said they were pictures from when she was young and from before she'd moved far away and had lost touch with his parents.

His eyes skipped from the picture to the slowly ticking alarm clock just under it. It was almost seven and he hadn't started on breakfast yet! A yelp died in his throat as he yanked his pajama top over his head and replaced it with the previous night's shirt. He was dressed in record time, though he took time to carefully fold and place his clothes at the foot of his bed. He was almost out the door when a thought struck. What if they got angry he hadn't made the bed?

Only after he'd made the bed to Petunia Dursley standards, brushed his hair as much as he could, moved his pajamas to the wardrobe, polished his shoes with his old shirt, and straightened his twisted collar did Harry make his way to the kitchen. Once he peeked through the already open door, he started shaking. All four of the adults were already there.

"Should one of us go wake the kid?" asked Logan. He was making pancakes, casually flipping them like a pro. Anna Maria was by his side, stirring something that smelled absolutely amazing.

"He had a hard day yesterday. I'd still be in bed if I were in his place." That was Theodore, who was leisurely drinking coffee from a glass mug. Aunt Elena was asleep with her head on her folded arms. There was a mug of steaming tea next to her.

"Bella! Stop snoozing and drink your tea! We have tons of things to do today. If you and Harry are going to make it to the optometrist's, you need to go buy that new hoover we'd talked about in a few."

Were they going to buy him a hoover? And why did Anna Maria call his aunt Bella? Was he going to get in trouble for not starting breakfast?

All questions flew from his mind when Aunt Elena sat up. "Let Harry sleep for now. If he's not up by 8, I'll wake him. Let me just finish my tea; you'll get your new hoover, never fear. Did you finish planning our trip to the museum? I hope Harry likes it."

Harry barely heard Anna Maria's affirmative sounds. He was much more interested in the nice things he'd heard. He got to sleep in if he wanted? And they were making breakfast? And they were going to take _**him**_ to the museum? Harry smiled a little tremulously, could they really be so nice?

 **AN: this chapter was hard to write for some reason…**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: You know the drill by now**

Jame Potter, age ten, looked at the fat, blond boy across the street. Even though they looked nothing alike, James being taller and much thinner with coppery brown hair and tanned skin, they were cousins. Dudley, whose name was something of a joke, was a mean spirited boy. James, who went by his middle name and had gone by it since he was seven, had spent a week in the same school as his fat cousin. It was long enough for him to accept that his therapist was right. Harry James Potter had been a good kid and everything his Dursley relatives had ever told him was a lie. He _was_ worth loving, he _wasn't_ a good for nothing, he _was_ a good kid and good student.

James had lived with the Dursleys for six horrible years until his Mum, who was actually his Aunt Bella, had taken him. Since then he'd lived with two mums and two dads. In one day, he'd gone from being an orphan to having four parents. Most kids would have complained but James considered himself very lucky.

After three years of fun, hard work, doctors, therapy, diets, and moving around with his family; James had finally relented and allowed them to move into their current apartment. They were only staying in town long enough for him to see his relatives for what they were; liars and abusers.

James put his book back into his messenger bag and got up from the swing he'd been resting on for the last thirty minutes. Anna Maria, his second mum, had promised to teach him the hovering charm when he was ready to leave the Dursleys behind him.

As James walked away from his cousin and the ratty group of would be thugs he hung out with, he felt a blow to a shoulder and whirled around. Dudley and his stupid friends were getting ready to throw more rocks. James winced and turned to run out of their throwing range, only to crash into a man he hadn't seen before.

He was tall and thin, with shoulder length, greasy looking hair and almost yellow skin. The man sneered and brushed his dingy looking clothes off as if James had been covered in dust and dirt and had somehow transferred it to him. "Watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, sir. I didn't see you."

"That's obvious." He drawled. His dark eyes flickered to the boys behind James and back to him. He froze for a second, eyes wide and staring into James' own green eyes.

"Excuse me, mum's waiting for me." James readjusted his bag and walked off down the street. What a strange man..

James loved magic. In the Dursley household, it had been something impossible and something filthy. The word was banned as well as anything strange or out of the ordinary. James had been with his parents for a month when they sat him down and Anna Maria told him about magic. He'd steadfastly refused to believe her, thinking it was a mean joke or a trap so they could punish him. She'd then turned the coffee table into a statue of him. He'd believed her after that.

Although James had magic, he was almost never allowed to use it. Anna Maria had a special room and only in there was James allowed to use magic or even see magic. Since the magical world didn't like normal people seeing magic, Anna Maria did all the packing and unpacking on her own while the rest of the family ran errands or saw a movie.

It took her an hour to pack everything in the apartment after James' appointment. Once they were sure James had seen the Dursleys in the correct lights, they moved back to their house in Earls Colne. They'd bought it a year into their life with James. The two acre garden gave them enough space to play and entertain garden parties. The well kept Georgian was beautiful and always smelled good because of whatever flowering plant covered outer walls. They'd hired a gardner to keep all of it alive and pretty. No one in the family had a green thumb.

James' face as the car moved up the long driveway was a pleasure to all four adults. It was the face of a child coming home from a too long journey. Anna Maria and Logan shared a look and both smiled. Time for their surprise.

"Logan and I have been thinking that since you only have a few more months until your Hogwarts letter arrives…" Anna Maria trailed off. James was looking at them with wide eyes and an open mouth.

"What? What've you been thinking? Mum! What are they planning?" The adults laughed and Bella raised her hands in a fending of gesture.

"Don't look at me. It's Anna Maria that has to do all the work."

James turned to his second mum. "Please? Please. What's going on?"

"Would you like to accompany Logan and I to Diagon Alley to get you some supplies so you can start learning now?"

"Yes, yes, oh yes! When are we going? Tomorrow? Can I see the goblins in the bank? Are we going by car? Or by the chimney? You said witches and wizards can go by fire!"

"Since it's Friday, we can go tomorrow after breakfast. We'll get everything you need in the morning, eat at the Alley, and come home to drop off our purchases."

"We'll wait for your letter to arrive before we go to the goblin bank to check if your parents left anything." Bella looked back at her son with a grin. His shy smile in response warmed her heart. They all really hoped the Potters had at least left memorabilia for their boy. Anything that could tell him who his parents had been would be a treasure.

"What house do you think I'll be in?" Theo and Bella shared an exasperated look. It was an often repeated question of late. They had argued amongst themselves when James was asleep or entertained elsewhere.

Theo thought James was a Hufflepuff. He thought James' best qualities were his kindness, and helpfulness, and friendliness. Logan thought James was a Gryffindor. He thought James was brave and chivalrous. Logan was rather proud at how well James had taken to hand-to-hand. He was Logan's star pupil. In Anna Maria's opinion, James was a Ravenclaw. His stellar grades and enjoyment of books were all the proof she needed. As for Bella… she hoped she'd raised him to be clever and ambitious enough to fit in to Slytherin. However, she hoped he'd be placed anywhere but there. It was too dangerous and disgustingly amoral place for her sweetheart.

"I'm sure you'll be in a house that will be a good fit and if for whatever reason you don't like it, we can always move out of the country." The four best friends had discussed it and had agreed. No one would touch their boy.

 **AN: So Harry's first meeting with Snape... yeah...**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I have serious health issues so forgive me for not updating in a while. I've tried to work on this fic while recuperating but my family is Mexican and apparently looking at letters while sick makes you sicker? Anyway, they scolded me whenever they saw me writing or reading.**

The next morning was as bright as any other day between late winter and spring. James' excitement was evident in his quick walk and wide smile. He did his chores in record time and asked Bella what clothes she thought he should wear about twenty times. He was so excited he didn't even notice her triple check that his scar was well hidden with makeup.

Over the years, they'd attempted to remove it with surgery. In most countries, doctors refused saying that cosmetic procedures would have to wait until he reached his majority because children's skin changed and grew as quickly as their bodies did. They had had to reopen the skin before taking him to the Emergency room. It had not been a pleasant experience for anyone. They hated to hurt their boy and they absolutely hated the black miasma that fled his skin screaming. All that was now left was a fairly faint line.

Logan, who'd been trained in the magic of his native tribe before being cast out, had pulled some huge favors to get James checked over by the magical elders of the tribe. Their report that he had been covered by evil magic, as well as by European binding magic were very worrying. What followed was an intense three day ritual that almost killed the tiny eight year old. Afterwards, the elders had invited James, and only James, back for a month of instruction. They had seen his future in smoke and bones and knew he was a warrior for balance.

Ever since then, James had been able to change his hair color and length as well as his skin and eye color. Frankly, James' partial metamorphagus ability had saved them a lot of worry. Without it, they would never have allowed him to go to Hogwarts or any magical boarding school.

So after the family's morning rituals, Logan, Anna Maria, and James stepped into the chimney in the studio they'd built on the grounds and disappeared in flashes of green flames.

The family that appeared in the Leaky Cauldron was new but the adults were obviously magical so they called little to no attention to themselves. Those who bothered to study the family saw very little of interest.

The mother was shorter than the father, pretty, curvy, blonde, and sweet looking. The father was attractive, with a well shaped face and a slightly haughty attitude generally attributed to pure bloods. The son was tall, with very light brown, almost gold eyes. His skin was a few shades closer to the mother's than his father. His dark hair was obviously his father's as was his bone structure. The parents wore simple everyday robes, the son was dressed like a well to do muggle. They attracted little to no attention.

James * wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping.* Some things, he'd seen before and had even been worked with. Dragon liver, which a woman had been complaining about, he'd used under Anna Maria's careful watch while making a potion that would strength his bones and improve his iron intake.

"Here we are: Gringotts." Anna Maria called his attention to their first destination; *a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold was-*

"A goblin." whispered James so softly he almost didn't hear himself. He'd never seen one but had read lots of history books that had mentioned goblin rebellions and treaties. He was so busy trying to remember everything he'd read that he didn't notice the words engraved into the second pair of doors. The line they joined was fairly short, there were only two people ahead of them.

James studied the goblin who exchanged their pounds for galleons intently. He tried to be careful not to be too obvious. Goblins in general seemed to be quite a short race, every one visible about a foot and a half shorter than James. They had skin almost as tan as Logan's olive skin, very long fingers and feet, and more than a few moles. They kind of looked like very short humans with the exception of their long fingers and feet.

James noticed very few children in the alley. Most looked like they were younger than eight. First, they went to Madan Malkin's, a robe shop near the bank. There were no men in the shop, only a couple assistants dressed in mauve and three customers. James looked around while Anna Maria and Logan went to find something they liked and an assistant. Robes reminded him of weird dresses or the ones that went over pajamas. He made a face. The Hogwarts ones, he noticed, looked like cloaks. That seemed better.

"Got an idea what you like yet?" Logan placed a hand on James' shoulder as he came up behind him.

"Cloak-ish or like long coats? I don't know. Not the ones that look like dresses though." Logan laughed and pulled him to a stool placed before a set of mirrors.

"Let me find a couple for everyday. I'll be right back."

They spent an hour in the shop before moving on to the apothecary, the stationery shop, the bookstore (where James spent more than he should've) and finally, Ollivander's.

"Anna Maria Santos, six inches Rowan and Opaleye heartstring. Swishy but temperamental. Good for Charms." Ana Maria smiled politely at the creepy old wandmaker.

"I've brought my son to get his wand early." The man's odd silvery, almost white gray eyes surrounded by hundreds of small, deep wrinkles switched from Anna Maria to James. He stared oddly, silently, for a few, uncomfortable minutes. Finally, he turned around and began to measure James with a floating, free moving tape measure while he searched in the millions boxes on the shelves behind the counter.

"And when is the young man's birthday?"

"August first." The family had agreed they'd always tell magicals that his birthday was August. Anna Maria had studied age magics enough to know age revealing charms were almost a day or so early or late.

"I can't give you your wand until the day of your birthday but we can most certainly find it now."

"That's alright."

"Give this a wave." The tape measure went limp before flying to the counter and rolling itself neatly like some kind of flat white snake.

James grabbed the light colored stick and gave it a wave, conscious of Anna Maria and Logan watching him contentedly. A few sluggish sparks escaped the tip. Ollivander frowned, rummaged a little, and handed James a second wand.

Nothing happened when he swished it.

"Alright then.." Ollivander pulled another and another from the shelves. James waved and waved. While some shot sparks, others did absolutely nothing. "Tough customer, then."

The wandmaker tottered off into his shop, leaving them standing there awkwardly. They could hear a few thuds, a couple of bangs, and what sounded like hissing. The heady smell of wood smoke reached them before the slightly smoking man came back into view. In his hands, he carried a black lacquered box with bronze metal detailing. "I never thought I'd see this one go. My great grandfather's grandfather crafted it. Give it a go."

James took the wand that had been in the box and flicked.

 **AN: I love the band One OK Rock. (My all time favorite song is Wherever You Are) Anyway, lately the song Smiling Down makes me really emotional for some reason….**

 **Please** _ **Review**_ **!##!#**

 **Otherwise how will I ever grow as a writer?**


End file.
